Working
by HermioneGrangerTwin
Summary: She's working again. Ron's musings on Hermione. Various times. R/Hr. This could be four genres, so I picked the two most fitting.
1. Tired

Tired

A/N: Random one-shot that just came to mind and wouldn't go away. Sorry about the shortness. It's becoming easier for me to just write something at my fancy. Which is a new thing for me. Ah, well. During POA obviously. Ron's musings on Hermione.

--

I've been glimpsing Hermione out of the corner of my eye these days. Today, like every other bloody day, she's working. And her eyes are drooping. She needs sleep. I can see it.

I'm not going to tell her. But I'm not going to talk to her. She got Harry's Firebolt taken away to be "stripped down".

Stripped down? What the fuck are they going to do to it? I can only imagine that Flitwick and McGonagall are tearing it apart. The thought makes me shudder. A _Firebolt_! Being stripped down in its prime! I refuse to speak to her.

She looks lonely across the room by herself.

She's been alone more this year. Keeps getting on my nerves. Our pets do _not_ get along, and it's that damn cat's fault. Bloody ginger bastard.

I realize it probably says the same thing about me when I kick it.

Ah, well. It needs kicking. Stupid animal. It keeps trying to eat poor innocent Scabbers. What did Scabbers ever do? Nothing. He sleeps and is generally useless. So what's that stupid cat got against him?

It would be okay if she didn't always take its side.

"It's part of his nature, Ron."

Yes. It's part of it's nature to be a rat murderer. But Scabbers can't even be considered a rat. He doesn't do anything.

She's holed herself up in her room or the library most days, studying, I suppose. Working for that extra point. She's insane. It's not as if she needs it. Her grades are perfectly fine. But she's been working harder this year. And taking more courses.

Always reading and writing. I walk closer under the guise of getting warm by the fire and find she's doing something with numbers. Arithmancy.

Not that I know how she's getting to that class. It's the same time as Care of Magical Creatures. How is she doing all these classes?

She's got a neat pile of books and parchment in front of her. I don't know how she's keeping up with all the work. They all sound like hard courses.

Like Muggle Studies. What the hell is she doing taking Muggle Studies? She grew up a Muggle! She doesn't need that! But I see her sitting, writing an essay. Or reading a chapter about some nonsense about sports that don't seem to be any sort of fun. Like football, that stupid game Dean's always blathering on about.

That's another class she can't possibly be in either. They're at the same time as Divination. But Ernie MacMillan said that she never misses a class. How the hell is she doing that?

I wish that I could ask her. But even if we were talking, which we aren't, then she'd just change the subject. That's what she always does. She won't give me a straight answer on anything.

I sigh. She briefly looks up as if in thought. But perhaps she's listening. She's sly that way. Harry says he's going to bed and I go up too. But I've left my wand, so I head back down.

And I catch Hermione crying on whatever she's doing. I stop dead and just watch.

She's exhausted. And someone needs to lecture her for a change. About relaxing. She doesn't need the stress. I feel a pull to lecture her myself, but I get the feeling she would tell me to bugger off.

Actually, she'd tell me to mind my own business because I obviously don't care about her affairs really and -

I just want her to stop crying. I'd rather have her fight with me than cry. But it would come to the same end.

So I'm stuck, standing stock-still, not wanting her to see me and try to hide everything. She shouldn't need to hide that from us. I don't know whether to let her cry it out and come down or just to leave my wand down there. But I need to know that she sleeps. That she stops crying. That she'll be alright without us.

But she doesn't look up. She falls asleep crying. I get my wand and use a charm to lift her onto the nearest couch, hoping I won't bugger it up and drop her. When her body makes it, I pile her books and homework neatly next to her, so she might forget that she wasn't on the couch the night before when she wakes up.

I know she needs someone to care about her and not let her wallow in her exhaustion.

I know she needs me and Harry.

I know that McGonagall better give back that Firebolt soon, because I don't know how much longer I can stand seeing her like this.


	2. Through

Working - Through

My wife is busy. Extremely busy.

Her new case is driving her insane. Which in turn, is driving me insane.

An hour ago, I asked her if she would like some tea to calm her nerves while she worked in the living room. She snapped at me and said, "Can't you see I'm busy? Don't talk to me 'til I'm through!" She had a large volume next to her and one in her lap. Parchment was spread all around.

I brought her the tea anyway. I put it down - on a coaster, mind you - on the table next to her and began to leave, fully intending to leave her alone. Then I heard her sniffling.

"Oh, Ron," she said. It was oddly muffled. I turned to find her mouth covered by her hand as she cried. Wildly hiccupping was more like it. I kissed her on the top of the head and left her alone. I knew it would happen again. It never ended.

Just minutes ago, I edged around the couch to the Prophet on the table, terrified she'd burst out at me again. "Well, I'm sorry. But I'm very busy! I'll talk when I'm through."

"Through? You're never going to be through, Hermione! Until this case is presented, you're going to jump down my throat no matter what I do!"

She stood up, and gathered her books. "I'm sorry I'm in the way of whatever is so important that you have to do. I happen to be working, helping to pay for this flat that is completely overpriced! I'm trying to be the best at my job so that, perhaps, if I work long enough, I'll be able to rise and not have to work so hard." She began to walk around me. "I mean, do you ever want me back? And I - "

I grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her full on the lips, mostly to shut her up. When I pulled away, I kept her shoulders in my grasp. "You're never going to stop working this hard, love. It's just what you do. You work. I love it about you. Even though it could lead to my premature death."

She half-smiled. "Great. Now let me go. Maybe tonight, if you stop getting on my nerves, you might get to have me for a little while."

I smiled widely. "As long as I chose what you do."

She raised an eyebrow. "That can be arranged."


	3. Late

Working

Chapter Three: Late

It was midnight and I awoke in my bed to find that Hermione wasn't beside me. She had told me she'd be working late, but this isn't right. She should've come home by now. I got up and checked the bathroom.

No Hermione.

I checked her home office and library.

No Hermione.

I checked the spare rooms, the kitchen, the living room, and all the closets.

No Hermione.

I scoured the flat from top to bottom, worry building in my chest.

No Hermione.

I went to Harry and Ginny's house to ask about her.

No Hermione.

I went to the Ministry to see if anyone had seen her leave.

They hadn't.

I approached her office and opened the door.

Hermione.

I found her asleep on a wide spread of papers on her desk. Her wild hair was coming out of it's earlier bun, her mouth was slightly open and I could hear her breathing deeply. I smiled warmly, all the fear and worry slipping away. I came to stand behind her and kissed the base of her neck, where tendrils where moving with the air in the office. She stirred quietly and turned to see me.

"Come on, Hermione. It's time to go home."

"Noooo," she said, reminiscent of a toddler being told to go to bed.

"Yeees," I replied.

"No, Ron. I have so much work to do. I have to get this presentation done before Friday if I'm going to get promoted. Then I can do all the things I want. With rights and stuff and—" she trailed off, her eyes sliding shut.

I laughed quietly. "It's Monday, love. You'll have time. Now you need to sleep."

"But—"

"No buts. Come on."

"No."

"Hermione," I said, warningly. "If you don't come home with me right now, I will throw you over my shoulder and make you."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

She looked at me appraisingly and sighed. "Alright." She stood up, and stumbled around her desk.

"Lemme help you with that," I said, wrapping one arm around her back and the other under her legs. She laid her head on my shoulder and closed her eyes. I kissed her forehead tenderly, admiring her, and Apparated to our bedroom.

I laid her down into her spot and kissed her softly, covering her body with the duvet. "Goodnight."

"Mmm," she said. "Love you."

"I love you too." I crawled into the bed next to her, draping my arm over her waist and smiled, closing my eyes and falling asleep peacefully for the first time that night.


End file.
